One Piece Drabbles
by SkittlesTheUnicorn
Summary: 32 Drabbles, each featuring a different character and theme. Multiple genres and pairings.
1. Luffy

**So I'm in the process of getting back into One Piece, and I wanted to write something. I haven't really written anything in a while, so I figured starting with something short would be a better idea than just jumping in on some of my longer WIPs. So this is basically the 100 themes challenge, but with only 32. Why 32? Well, I just took a sheet of paper and folded it in half as many times as I could, which gave me 32 little slips. I wrote a different character's name on each one and put them all in a hat. I did the same with 32 random themes from the challenge list. I want to try to write one drabble per day, but I make no guarantees. Some will have pairings, some will not. It really depends on my mood when I write it. I'll let you know of any pairings at the top of each one.**

 **Hope you enjoy! :)**

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Character: Luffy

Theme: Cut

Pairings: None

Warnings: there's a little bit of blood, but nothing major

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Sanji whistled a soft tune to himself as he added a dash of paprika to the sauce he was working on. He gave it a taste and hummed in satisfaction. He turned to the potatoes waiting to be washed and realized a certain rubber nuisance had yet to show up. Usually he was there pretty soon after Sanji started cooking, but he was already halfway done with dinner. _Maybe he'll let me actually have a bit of peace today,_ he thought with a smile.

Distantly, he heard Luffy's excited shout, "Gomu Gomu no…ROCKET!" The rubber-boy came crashing through the galley doors, smacking into the table and falling face-first to the floor. Sanji sighed. _Guess not._

"Saaaaaaaaaanjiiiiiiiii~!" his captain whined, bouncing up and rushing up behind the irate chef.

"You know the drill, Luffy. No food until I say so," Sanji reprimanded, kicking him out of his personal space.

Luffy pouted. "Aww, stingy!" he said, sticking his tongue out childishly. Sanji rolled his eyes and turned back to the potatoes. He gave them all a quick rinse and started peeling them with a paring knife. Large, owlish eyes watched as the peelings dropped into a bowl.

"Can I help?"

Sanji halted his movements and eyed his captain curiously. "You want to peel potatoes?"

"Yeah! Shishishi!" Luffy grinned.

"...Alright then," He agreed, stepping aside. "You ever done this before?" Receiving an enthusiastic nod, the blonde carried on, "Okay. Just be sure to cut the skins as close as possible. The thinner you can make 'em, the crispier they're going to be when I fry them later. And don't drop anything or I'll peel _you._ Got that?"

Luffy saluted with a dramatic flourish. "Aye aye!" Sanji chuckled and started on preparing the meat.

They worked together in amiable silence, which was unexpected, but Sanji welcomed it. It was nice to spend some quality time with his captain without feeling the urge to kick him back to East Blue. And quiet moments like that was so rare on the Strawhat's ship. As much as he loved his rowdy comrades, it was nice to have a bit of peace every once in a while. A small smile graced the chef's lips as he savored the feeling.

It wasn't too long before the silence was broken by a sharp intake of breath. Sanji looked to Luffy, who was holding his hand carefully, away from the counter full of food. A small drop of blood dripped to the floor.

Sanji set down his knife and ushered the boy to the sink. "Oi, put that under some water," he ordered. Luffy did as he was told, turning on the tap and washing the blood away. The blonde inspected the small cut on the inside of his thumb. It didn't look too bad, but he'd need to put a bandage on it. "You should go see Chopper."

Luffy frowned. "But-"

"I'll finish the potatoes. Don't worry about it. You did good." At his words, the rubber-boy's mouth stretched into his infamous grin. Sanji had to kick him to get him to leave. _Idiot_ , he thought, smiling fondly at the perfectly-peeled potatoes left behind.


	2. Hancock

Character: Hancock

Theme: Queen

Pairings: LuffyxHancock… I guess.

Warnings: nope

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A young man stood tall on the edge of a grassy cliff, his red captain's jacket fluttering majestically in the sea breeze. A wave crashed against the jagged rock, sending a sparkling mist flying into the air. The man clutched a worn straw hat to his head as he grinned at the sight before him.

"Hancock," he called, addressing the woman standing at the edge of the forest behind him.

She made her way towards him. "Yes, my love?" she said. She stood beside him now.

He turned to her, chocolate eyes glimmering. "I've conquered the Grand Line," he stated, grasping her left hand in both of his. "I have all the wealth this world has to offer. But it's not enough. There's something else I want."

"What is it?"

He pulled a small black box from his pocket. When he opened it, a diamond ring sat gleaming inside. He knelt before Hancock, smiling warmly up at her.

"You," he said simply.

"Luffy…" She couldn't believe it.

"Hancock, will you be my Pirate Queen?" She beamed at him, pulling him into a fierce kiss. He chuckled and drew back. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Of course, my darling." He slid the ring onto her finger and lifted her into the air with an impossible grin. He spun her around and around, their joyous laughter echoing on the ocean air.

"Hammock?" Luffy questioned, stuffing a chunk of sea king meat in his already-full mouth. When did he start eating…?

"Eh?" Blinking, she realized they were not, in fact on a cliff, but rather in her throne room.

"You spaced out and started smiling really weird," he deadpanned from his place on the carpet, surrounded by a shrinking pile of food.

She blushed, mumbling, "S-sorry." She couldn't meet his gaze.

"Shishishi! You're funny!" he laughed. And proceeded to shove a whole loaf of bread down his throat.

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 **Alright, this one's kind of meh, but I blame the theme. Hancock and Queen? Really? =_= I tried to make the best of it, though. Hopefully it was at least a little funny? No? Okay then. ;_; I'll just... go. Thanks for reading~**


	3. Chopper

Character: Chopper

Theme: Alone

Pairings: no. nope. no beastiality here.

Warnings: all hurt, no comfort

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Chopper stared, unblinking, at the wall of his room, willing sleep to come. The moonlight cast shadows of the falling snow on the rough stone, and he watched it's movement with tired eyes. He shivered, remembering how cold it had felt that night. Normally he was happy in the snow. It was familiar and comforting even when his whole world was crashing down around him. But not that night. Not when Doctor…

He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall at the memory.

During the day, he could forget. There was so much to do-so many things to learn, so many people to save-that he had no time to think about what had happened. Doctorine provided him with plenty of distractions. But even the old witch had to sleep sometime. And Chopper was left curled up on his bed, alone.

He sighed, closing his eyes to the shifting light. Thinking about that night did nothing to help him sleep. He had another busy day in store for him, and he needed to be at his best. Doctorine would settle for nothing less. And he really was tired.

As the last of his consciousness slowly faded away, he futilely prayed he wouldn't have any more nightmares.

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 **Why is it that these keep getting shorter? Mah, whatever. They're supposed to be short anyway. Sorry for the sadness. It's not my fault! The theme I choose is totally random. Blame the hats!**

 **Oh, and to ilovecartoonsgirl: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you liked it! ^^**

 **Thanks for reading~**


	4. Shanks

**I think I'm gonna up the rating of this fic. You'll see why. If you're squeamish, maaaaaybe you shouldn't read this one.**

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Character: Shanks

Theme: Rot

Pairings: none

Warnings: general grossness, gore, blood, zombies-the whole shebang.

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 _Squelch_

The Other's decapitated body dropped to the ground with a wet _plop_ , its head still snarling and foaming at the mouth as it rolled towards the pile of corpses that'd already been taken care of. Shanks wiped his sword on the Other's torn shirt with a grimace. His companion let out an amused snort at his expression. The redhead shot him a glare.

"Shut it, Benny. If you used a sword like me, you'd do the same. Neck juice is gross." He crinkled his nose in disgust. Benn just shook his head, resting his beloved rifle on his shoulder.

"You're just jealous, Boss," Yasopp teased from the den den mushi at Shanks's hip.

The redhead pouted childishly and stuck his tongue out at the building the sniper was currently stationed on.

"Anyway," Benn cut in before the stupid argument could escalate, "we should get going. We need to grab the stuff and get out of here before more Others show up." Shanks sobered at his words and nodded. He gestured for him to follow as he made his way cautiously into the abandoned shop. This mission was of the utmost importance. They were running low on supplies back at the base, and if they failed to get what they needed now, they could all be dead in a week. Or worse.

The general store appeared to be empty, but they couldn't take any chances. They didn't have Yasopp's watchful eyes inside the building, so they needed to be even more careful than usual. They split up, inching around separate shelves with weapons raised.

As Shanks rounded the corner, an Other snarled and lurched after him. This one was a little more decayed than the ones outside. It's greyish skin was riddled with dark holes that oozed thick black goo. Sections of its flesh had rotted away, exposing yellowed bone. It grabbed at Shanks with one hand, the other limb hanging uselessly at its side. He slashed through the Other's arm, a spray of congealed blood emanating from its new stump of a shoulder.

"Hey, we match now!" he chuckled as he thrust his sword through its neck. It hung for a moment, suspended only by the blade, before Shanks sliced upwards, splitting its head clean in half. The body fell to the floor, the two halves of its brain slipping into the growing pool of blood and black ooze.

The redhead sighed, staring forlornly at his dripping sword. Brain juice was even worse than neck juice. And the Other's clothes were too gross to wipe it off on. He resigned himself to wiping it on his own pants, cursing the end of the world for ruining his favorite pair of khakis.

Benn appeared on the other side of the aisle, carrying a large sack of supplies. Seeing his boss's pout, he rolled his eyes and picked his way carefully over the rotting corpse.

"C'mon, let's go. I got what we need. Seems there was only this one here," he informed, nodding his head at the Other. Shanks grinned as they headed out the door, satisfied with a job well done.

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 **Crap ending is crap. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed it anyways! :)**


	5. Thatch

**So, it's been a while, yeah? Six months, to be exact. Whoops. And to top it off, this is probably the most upsetting one yet hehe... Hope you enjoy anyways!**

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Character: Thatch

Theme: Seeing Red

Pairings: none

Warnings: be ready for CANON FEELS, also blood and character death

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Dinner had ended a few hours ago, and the ones in charge of cleanup that night were just finishing up. There were only two more pans to wash yet, and Nick, a member of the fourth division, offered to take care of them on his own. The others bid him good night before heading off to bed.

Nick scrubbed at the stubborn grease, cursing his generosity. His arms were already tired and this damn pan was being impossible. He grumbled under his breath.

The door swung open, and he looked up, hoping one of the others had come to take over for him. Alas, it was just Thatch, probably looking for some booze.

"Hey, Nick," the Commander greeted, grabbing a bottle from the storage room. Nick squinted, recognizing the label as the special sake reserved for Rakuyo's birthday.

"Hi Thatch. What're you doin', there?" he asked with a raised brow.

Thatch grinned. "Just having some sake." He put a finger to his lips. "Don't tell anyone, eh?" Nick rolled his eyes. He wasn't all that surprised he was taking _that_ bottle, as opposed to the dozens more they had stocked up. It was Thatch, after all. His commander wasn't generally one to follow the rules.

"Alright, but I ain't cleanin' up after you're done," he said.

Thatch chuckled. "I think I can manage washing a damn cup on my own." Nick shrugged, turning back to the soapy sink with a tired sigh.

The redhead placed a calloused hand on his subordinate's shoulder. "Hey, why don't you go to bed? You look like you're about to fall over."

Nick shook his head. "I've gotta finish these last pans first."

"I'll take care of it. Just go get some rest."

He offered a small grin. "Well, since you're offering…" Thatch snorted.

"Have a good night, Commander," he muttered around a yawn, waving a lazy farewell as he left the kitchen. Thatch chuckled to himself and turned back to the pilfered bottle of sake.

Humming a soft tune, he poured a good amount into a cup and took a big swig.

"Ah, now that's good stuff!" he breathed in satisfaction. He quickly downed the rest of his cup and rolled up his sleeves to start on the greasy pans.

Ten minutes of vigorous scrubbing later, Thatch set the final pan aside to dry with a heavy sigh. Foregoing the cup altogether now, he gulped down the sake directly from the bottle. He deserved it, after all. He worked hard, dammit! He quickly rinsed out his abandoned cup and sat down on a stool for another big swig. He was starting to get a pretty good buzz, now. He figured he should probably put the bottle back before he got too drunk.

Sake now back safely where he'd found it, Thatch headed back to his cabin. The cool night air felt good on his slightly flushed cheeks. He stumbled a bit on the worn wood of the deck. Perhaps he was more intoxicated than he thought.

A slight breeze on his neck was all the warning he had before a sharp pain took over his abdomen. He jerked forward from the force of his unknown attacker. He looked down in a daze to see the end of a knife sticking out of his stomach. Thick, warm blood flowed from the wound. The knife twisted, introducing a whole new level of pain. He coughed, more red spattering from his mouth.

Mustering up all the strength he could, he grabbed the knife before it could be removed. He looked over his shoulder, eyes widening in shock. He was met with the feral grin of his crewmate.

"Teach…?" he gasped.

The traitor laughed, "Zehahaha, that's right, Commander. Sorry it had to come to this." He didn't look that sorry.

"Why?"

"You have something I want." Teach ripped his arm backwards, tearing the knife through Thatch's hand and pulling it out of his back. Laughing to himself, Teach stepped back as the commander fell to the ground. "So long, Commander," he jeered and stepped around Thatch toward his cabin. The devil fruit was finally his, now, but he'd have to act quickly.

Too focused on the task before him, Teach didn't hear the strained last words of his crewmate: "I… forgive you… Brother."

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 **I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The idea of Thatch forgiving Blackbeard is such a beautifully tragic thing, I had to use it. I actually got it from a brilliant story by Haruvatat called '100 Days of Ace Being a Buttwipe'. It's a fantastic, hilarious fic, and it's on ffnet if you want to check it out.**


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